


Calculated Risk

by destinies



Series: Tactics-Adjacent [2]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Anal Sex, Aphrodisiacs Implied, Bad Decisions, Double Penetration, Drunk Sex, Dubious Consent, F/M, Force Bond (Star Wars), Glove Kink, Hux Has No Chill, Intoxication, Multi, Threesome - F/M/M, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-29
Updated: 2018-03-29
Packaged: 2019-04-14 14:06:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,800
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14137602
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/destinies/pseuds/destinies
Summary: “Can I help you, General?” Rey asks.“No,” says Hux, his eyes wandering over her and Kylo. “But I believe I can help you.”--A First Order celebration devolves into debauchery, and Armitage Hux makes an unorthodox power play.





	Calculated Risk

**Author's Note:**

> This smutty oneshot should stand alone just fine, but it follows directly from chapter fifteen of [Tactical Surrender](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13183992/chapters/30156201), which sets up the non-orgy part of this party.
> 
> Thanks to [Mixy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/afalsebravado) and [Demi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/demimondes) for betaing, as always. Extra thanks to Demi for the beautiful [moodboard](http://destinieswritten.tumblr.com/post/172381593608/calculated-risk-complete-fandom-star-wars) she made for this fic.
> 
> If you like, you can come shout at me for this on [social](http://destinieswritten.tumblr.com/) [media](https://twitter.com/destiniesfic).

            The soiree carries on around Rey and Kylo as if they’re an island in the middle of a rushing river. Rey catches herself staring off into space for the third time in the span of five minutes and thinks she definitely may have had one glass of wine too many. Or maybe that headiness comes from the perfume, visible now in the air as wisps of light gray smoke that hang low in the room. Kylo lies with his head planted very firmly in her lap; there’d be no dislodging him now even if she wanted to. With the healthy buzz she’s nursing and accompanying relaxation, she doesn’t want to, even though they’re in plain view of all of the other guests.

            As she runs her fingers through his hair absentmindedly, she notices that the tone of the party is gradually shifting. The music carries on as it has, but more of that sweet-smelling smoke fills the air, and the chamber seems to be emptying out. About half the attendees, the ones that Rey recognizes as the more minor ambassadors and lower-ranking First Order officials, trickle in twos and threes through the door. But all of the beautiful young servers remain, even after there are no more plates to clear and the only glasses in view are those still being sipped from. Some servers begin paying closer attention to particular guests; others are pulled into laps or onto the arms of chairs.

            “Darling,” she says, falling back on the code word they’d agreed on earlier.

            “Hm?”

            One of the generals reaches up and grabs a cord hanging above her seat. A set of curtains falls down from the ceiling, a near-opaque barrier that separates her and the young man she’d drawn to her from the rest of the room, but leaves their vague silhouettes visible. 

            Rey blinks a few times, as if trying to clear her vision. No, she’s definitely seeing what she thinks she’s seeing. “What sort of party is this?”

            Kylo picks up his head. “Oh,” he says, following her gaze to track the source of her discomfort. “This. I’m usually gone before this part.”

            “This is— normal?”

            “Mm. So many in one place, drunk on wealth and power…”

            “Or just drunk,” Rey points out.

            “Of course.” Kylo sets his head back down so he can look up at her, then reaches up and lays a hand on the side of her waist. “I’ve nothing to do with this,” he says, stroking his thumb up and down the fabric of her vest. “It’s not my kind of debauchery.”

            “Do you even have a kind?”

            His eyes trace her lips. “Just you.”

            Rey ducks her head down with the intent to kiss him, but pauses midway. Her skin prickles as she catches movement in her peripheral vision. She knows to trust her instincts, and cranes her neck to look over.

            Not far from them, in one of the curved-backed crimson chairs, sits Hux, who has not pulled the cord for his privacy curtain. One of the female Twi’lek servers who Rey had _hoped_ was here of her own volition is on his lap, but his eyes are fixed on her and Kylo. They remain so even as his companion begins playing with the collar of his jacket, running her hand down his chest, murmuring something in his ear. He smirks when he catches Rey staring, then looks away for a brief moment to whisper something to the Twi’lek before resuming that unnerving eye contact with Rey.

            The Twi’lek’s hand travels down past Hux’s waist and between his legs, to palm him, and Rey hopes that she’s not only here of her own accord but also being _very_ well-compensated. There aren’t enough credits in the galaxy.

            Kylo doesn’t look over, but he doesn’t have to in order to to sense her increasing unease and disgust. He tilts her face back toward him with a finger. “We can leave,” he says. “No one will mind.”

            “I…” As disconcerting as all of this is, Rey finds herself extremely averse to moving. She’d rather fall asleep on this sofa before moving. That _had_ to be the smoke. She’s been tipsy before, drunk once, and it’s never felt like this. Nor has she ever been so aware of all the places she and Kylo are touching, even though they’re fully clothed. She’s a bit delirious with it. She shakes her head. “I could use some privacy. Do we have one of those curtains?”

            Kylo looks past her, up at the ceiling, and he nods. Rey spots the cord, too, and she reaches up to pull down on it, hard. The curtains drop around them, cutting them off from the rest of the room. They also muffle the sounds slightly; Rey can hear the music still, but that’s all. She knows there must now be other noises in the mix and is grateful to be spared them.

            Now that they have the illusion of privacy, she ducks her head down and, finally, kisses Kylo on the mouth. It’s a hungry, needy kiss, all greedy lip and eager tongue, and he gladly reciprocates. He reaches up to remove her headband, then roots his hand in her elaborately knotted hairstyle, loosening it slightly, and presses her down to him. She feels the same buzzy, heady lightness within him as she has within herself and knows she won’t mind kissing him here for a while, even if others can see their shadowy outlines. In this crowded room, they may as well be alone.

            When Kylo decides they don’t have enough contact, he pushes himself to sit upright, then gathers her in his arms and lays back with her on top of him, swinging his legs up onto the sofa. Rey settles on his chest, her legs stretched out between his, and she kisses him languidly, a little messily, relishing the feel of his solid, muscular body under hers. She closes her eyes, and any discomfort slips from her mind.

            That is, until someone draws the curtain back.

            Rey turns her head a little more slowly than she otherwise might, dulled by wine and perfume and touch. Kylo, for his part, seemingly takes no notice of the intrusion, and he kisses her temple, running his hands up and down her sides. Then again, he may notice and just not care. Rey already knows that he doesn’t like to stop for anything. For her part, she finds she already knows who she’ll see standing there even before she can bring her eyes up to the intruder’s smug face.

            “Can I help you, General?” she asks, sounding only slightly peeved. It’s hard to be as annoyed as she should when Kylo’s hands are on her.

            “No,” says Hux, his eyes wandering over them. “But I believe I can help you.”

            Kylo scoffs into her hair. “Doubtful,” he says. “We don’t require your service.”

            “I’d never be so bold as to assert otherwise, Supreme Leader,” Hux says, his voice dripping with sycophancy. “But I may yet be of some use.”

            “We’re fine.”

            Hux’s mouth tightens, but he doesn’t leave. Instead, he asks, “Had she ever been with anyone?”

            Rey notices how he’s careful to speak over her, to Kylo. She narrows her eyes and says, “That’s none of your business.”

            “Ren,” Hux says, ignoring her. “Before you had her, had anyone else?”

            What a way to get to Kylo Ren, Rey thinks. Appeal to his pride. But to have survived this long, Hux must have years of sucking up to both him and Snoke under his belt. Kylo finally takes his eyes off Rey and looks up at Hux. “No,” he says simply.

            “And you’ve had her for just over a week,” Hux says. “There must still be avenues you haven’t explored with her yet. Ones that would also prove pleasurable.”

            “I have no trouble with her,” says Kylo, his voice hardening a bit. It’s a testament to whatever’s in the air that he hasn’t choked Hux yet. “You know that.”

            “I know it _very_ well,” Hux assures him, placating now. “But in such a short time… there must be things that neither of you has thought to try. Things she likes but doesn’t know she likes. Yet.” He takes a step forward, into the shelter of the curtain, and lets it close behind him. “I can help you find them.”

            Rey glances at Kylo now, and she can see him actually turning this idea over in his mind. Of course Hux would somehow know that Kylo hadn’t been with anyone else either. It’s disturbing to think that over the course of his life, Hux may have had more sex than either of them, knows more about it than either of them, and yet that’s probably true. By couching this request in concern for Rey’s pleasure, rather than his own or whatever else he’s after, it becomes an object of curiosity to Kylo. Over the course of the evening, Hux must have gleaned that Kylo’s much more preoccupied with keeping her happy than he lets on.

            “There’s someone here whose permission you’ve neglected to beg,” Rey points out.

            “You’re still a prisoner, aren’t you? Those fine clothes notwithstanding.” Hux takes another step to come right up against the side of the sofa, then, watching Kylo carefully, he brings one leg up and plants his knee between Rey and Kylo’s legs. He doesn’t touch Rey yet, but one of his gloved hands twitches. “Technically, I shouldn’t have to beg anything of you.”

            He reaches out and, with curved fingers, brushes two of his knuckles up and down the back of her exposed neck. Rey shivers. In her rational mind she wants him as far away from her as possible, but her body’s defenses are down and all it wants is _more contact_. She sucks air in through her teeth and squeezes her eyes shut, trying to reconcile these conflicting urges, and feels Kylo closely scrutinizing her reaction. He has to know how her skin tingles at the touch.

            “As you see,” Hux says, practically humming it, “four hands accomplish more than two.”

            Kylo exhales against Rey. “Proceed,” he says, “but with _caution_.”

            When Hux says, “ _Thank_ you,” his voice is still overly saccharine. He takes Rey by her shoulders and pulls her back to sit her upright. Rey doesn’t resist him, and adjusts her legs so that she more comfortably straddles Kylo’s hips. She’s curious too, but not about what Hux could possibly “teach” them.

            “What are you after?” she whispers to him.

            “I said you cleaned up well,” Hux murmurs, running a hand up her arm, making her shiver again, and not from revulsion. “I’m just demonstrating my appreciation.”

            “But I know your mind. I’m not the sort of person you find attractive. I’m much too unpolished.”

            “Such a little fool.” He grasps her hair and pulls her head back against his shoulder, making her groan. Every feeling is heightened; the pain kindles a familiar fire under her skin. “Attraction has nothing to do with it. Look at him.”

            He nods down at Kylo, whose hands now rest on Rey’s thighs as she straddles him. He watches them both, but especially Rey, his eyes aglow with a blazing intensity.

            “Who has the power here, girl?” Hux asks, rhetorically.

            Rey doesn’t respond. She reaches out and places a hand on Kylo’s chest, over his heart, and he brings one of his own hands up to take it to his mouth so he can begin kissing her fingers. She watches, transfixed by his soft lips brushing over her knuckles with care, one at a time.

            “Besides,” Hux continues, spoiling the moment, but only for Rey, who is close enough to hear him over the music, “you do have a few redeeming qualities.” He palms her ass and squeezes it.

            She yelps, and Kylo looks up from her hand. “Careful,” he growls.

            “Worry not, Supreme Leader,” Hux says quickly. “I haven’t forgotten my place.”

            One of his hands finds her waist, and the other begins unfastening her vest. Rey turns her head in toward him and asks in an undertone, “Who does have the power, I wonder?”

            Out of the corner of her eye she catches one of those rare tight-lipped smiles from Kylo.

            “Listen to you,” says Hux, brushing an escaped tendril of Rey’s hair back behind her ear. “I didn’t think it possible, but perhaps we'll make an empress of you yet.”

            “‘We.’”

            “You’ve grasped the language of politics more quickly than I’d thought.” He presses his lips to the juncture of her neck and shoulder, but she notices that he looks at Kylo as he does it, conscious that he's toeing a line but not crossing it. Rey shudders. Not even chemical aids can completely overcome her loathing for him, but they do somehow manage to twist it around and feed it into her growing arousal. “You didn’t learn that from Ren. He has all the political acumen of a hammer.”

            “Blunt but effective,” Kylo points out, running his hands back up and down her thighs. He shifts his hips under her, already half-hard.

            “Of course. That was... a compliment. Obviously.” Hux sucks at Rey’s neck, lightly enough not to mark her. She can feels that he wants to, and that were Kylo not there, he would. Rey can’t help squirming a little, but bites down on her lip to stifle any audible response. He pushes her vest off her shoulders, then says, “Raise your arms for me.”

            “I don’t know that I should.”

            Hux sighs, and through gritted teeth he adds, “ _Please_.”

            “That’s better,” Rey says. In lieu of voicing his approval, Kylo squeezes her thighs gently. She lifts her arms above her head and allows Hux to pull off her shirt, but warns him, “Keep those gloves on.”

            “You don’t have to tell me twice. It’ll be a cold day in hell before I deign to touch you with bare hands.” He tosses the shirt aside, then looks at her brasserie, the mesh one with the open back. “Ah, this I remember from the other day,” he says, running a finger over the lower clasp. “Good choice. Sad that it has to go.”

            “It really doesn’t.”

            “So stubborn.”

            “You’re telling me you can’t work around it?” Rey raises her eyebrows. “With all of your _expertise_?”

            Hux breathes out through his nose. “Don’t get distracted,” he says. The hand on her waist slips down to her hip, and he curves his fingers against her, gripping lightly, maneuvering her back and forth to rock her against Kylo. The resulting friction is exquisite, and Rey and Kylo both gasp in that strange unison they adopt during sex. If Hux notices, he doesn’t comment. He just says to Rey, “You’re not here for my entertainment.”

            “That’s true,” says Kylo, and Rey knows this to be one of the rare times he and Hux have ever agreed on anything.

            Rey closes her eyes. When she does, she can mostly ignore Hux, but for his hand on her hip and his breath on her neck, and focus on the way Kylo feels underneath her, on how his cock already strains against his trousers. There are still several layers of fabric between them, but that only amplifies the sensations when she grinds down on him and he presses his pelvis up into hers, wanting, wanting more.

            Hux reaches around to cup one of her breasts through the brasserie, and once he has a feel for it he pinches her nipple. She inhales sharply. Most of the time when Kylo touches her breasts he just covers the whole thing with his hand and squeezes, sometimes brushing her nipples in passing. By contrast, this is a sharp, focused sort of stimulation that zings straight down between her legs. 

            “ _Oh_.”

            “Mhm.”

            Hux presses up against her; she can feel his erection against the small of her back, and she huffs a laugh as he directs his attention to her other breast. “Seems there  _is_ something about me that you like.”

            “Don’t flatter yourself.” He pinches her again, and she bites her lip. Her head drops back against his shoulder as he keeps shifting her back and forth, now by pushing his hips up against her and pulling away.

            Kylo’s breath comes short and ragged. Rey can feel his gaze heating her skin. When she opens her eyes and catches him staring, lips parted, cheeks pink from the drinks and from arousal, she can’t look away from him, either. She leans over him, still moving, pressing her hips forward against his, back against Hux, who moves his hand to her belly to keep her in position. She unbuckles Kylo’s belt, unclipping his saber and moving it safely beyond them, and starts unfastening his tunic with her fingers, because he’s far too clothed. He interrupts her by grabbing one of her hands and pressing it against his mouth again, kissing her palm, and then he takes her middle and forefingers into his mouth and sucks on them. Rey whines from the back of her throat.

            He releases her fingers with a frankly obscene wet pop and says, “Rey,” and his eyes have that look in them from the early days, before they’d grown a bit more gentle with each other. She knows he’d devour the rest of her if he could, too. Her body flushes with warmth.

            “Kylo,” she says, half-sighs. She can’t call him “Ben” in front of Hux, so it must be Kylo again, for now.

            “I need you,” he rumbles. He pulls one of his gloves off with his teeth and slips that hand between their bodies, letting her rut against it. She knows he can feel how warm she is through the fabric of her trousers, and she nods, then nods again. He pushes up off the couch to lean toward her and reaches out, pulling her all the way down by her neck so they can kiss, now with burning want and luscious desperation.

            For a moment she forgets Hux is even there, but of course he’s not content to be a background player. He reaches around Rey to undo her trousers, and then he circles her waist with his arms and pulls her back again, onto his lap. In a rare moment of Kylo and Hux effectively working in tandem, Kylo sits up, shrugs off his open tunic, and begins removing her boots while Hux holds her to his chest. Hux presses his face to her hair and inhales, deeply.

            “So glad they finally hosed you down,” he whispers. Kylo definitely can’t hear _that_.

            In this moment, in the low light and the heat and the smoke swirling around her, Rey is so unruffled by this that she gives him the kindest smile she can manage and says, “I’ve half a mind to tell you to unhand me.”

            Kylo, with both hands now bare, pulls her trousers and underthings down her legs in one fell swoop. Hux chuckles. “Don’t worry about me. You should be more concerned with giving him an heir before he tires of you.”

            Rey doesn’t dignify that with a response. Hux places her back down on Kylo’s thighs so he can remove his jacket while she helps Kylo with his trousers, pulling them down past his hips and exposing him. As if Rey is contemplating him for the first time, her tongue flickers out between her lips. Remarkably, she feels no self-consciousness in him, and if he cares at all that Hux is there to see him laid bare, nothing shows it. She is about to reach out to touch him when Hux presses something into her hand, and she finds herself holding a small bottle of lubricant.

            “I—” She turns her head to look back at Hux and finds his face _right_ next to hers, far too close. That throws her off for a beat, but she finishes her thought. “Did you just have this _on_ you?”

            Hux chuckles, takes her by the chin, and turns her back to face Kylo. “This may not be his kind of party,” he says. “It’s more mine.”

            “You have wretched taste,” Kylo remarks.

            “I don’t know about that,” Hux says, and he sets his chin on Rey’s shoulder as he watches her squirt some of the lubricant into her palm. “We seem to have finally found some common ground.”

            Rey rolls her shoulder back to shake him off, then sets the lubricant aside and wraps her hand around Kylo’s cock to slick him down. Kylo lets out a quiet “ah” before closing his eyes, and Rey feels the corresponding flash of heat in her own belly as if she’d just been touched. He was already hard from grinding against her, from watching her on top of him, and from — she knows, because their minds are never closer than when they’re intimate — watching her pleasured, even if by someone else’s hands. Hux is out of the picture in his mind: it’s just her, with her head tilted back, her, worrying her lower lip with her teeth as her eyelashes flutter.

            While she strokes him, she warms herself up further with her other hand, giving her clit some attention before slipping one finger inside herself, then another. She’s rushing a little, but they’d been together earlier in the day and because of all the rubbing and the touching she’s already wet, already wanting. She’d thought Hux might take over this part for her, not that she particularly would want him to, but he keeps to himself until he decides he’s tired of waiting and puts his hands, still gloved, back on her hips.

            “You’d better be ready by now,” he says, and he moves her up Kylo’s hips, positioning her over him.

            Rey plants the hand she’d been using to touch herself on Kylo’s chest for balance, then looks up at him, catching his eye. “I think he likes to watch,” she says, and Kylo gives her another one of those smiles. He shifts his hips under her again, clearly also ready, and Rey lines them up with her hand.

            “The previous Supreme Leader liked to watch,” says Hux. “Darling, you’ve no idea what I like.”

            He pushes down on her hips, lowering her onto Kylo a little too quickly; the suddenness of it steals the breath right out of both of them. Rey takes a second, shoulders tensed, to adjust to him, and he puts his hands back on her thighs, grounding her, keeping her steady. It’s more than just the physical, of course, but there’s no way Hux would know about the way the universe reacts to Kylo being inside of her.

            And Hux isn’t in the mood to be patient, to let them savor it. He shifts his grasp on Rey and moves her up, pressing his clothed hips against her backside, then back down, giving her more stability and dictating her rhythm as she rides Kylo’s cock. Rey finds she doesn’t mind this in the slightest. She loves being on top of Kylo, getting to watch his face, watch his head fall back and his lips part in wordless supplication as his grip on her thighs tightens, and Hux is taking half the labor from her. She won’t thank him for it, but she’s not about to push him away.

            Rey gets so caught up in the rhythm, in the sight, in the way Kylo’s cock fills her, in how it always seems to brush against something inside of her that makes it impossible for her not to moan, that she barely notices when Hux’s hands leave her hips. One of them returns after a moment, flattening itself below her navel, holding her as she moves. The other makes itself known a second later when one of his fingers, still gloved but now slick with lubricant, finds its way between her—

            “ _Oi_!”

            “Steady,” Hux says, right into her ear. “I’m not going to hurt you. I’m not _stupid_.”

            He applies pressure with that finger and moves it in small circles between her glutes, and Rey stops moving on Kylo for a second, a little overwhelmed by how sensitive that area is, how far that touch goes. It’s a good feeling, but very strange, sort of tingling. A gentle squeeze on her thigh brings her attention back to Kylo, who’s working his jaw; she knows he must feel that too, and she can sense that he’s wondering if he needs to tell Hux to back off. She shakes her head, just slightly. She doesn’t hate it. She very doesn’t hate it.

            Hux takes the arm she isn’t using to balance herself and pulls it behind her back with the hand that isn’t busy. “How does she feel?” he asks Kylo over Rey’s shoulder.

            It takes Rey a second to realize that he must mean _around_ Kylo, since he has no way to know of their connection. It takes Kylo a second to realize that too, and when he speaks his voice comes strained. “Good.”

            “How about…” Hux applies a little more pressure with that finger, forcing it inside of her ass. He tightens his grip on her arm to hold her in place and, upon encountering resistance from her body, whispers, “Oh, you silly girl, _relax_.”

            Rey bites down on her tongue. She’s not sure what would come out of her mouth otherwise. She wants to relax, she finds. That one finger along with Kylo’s cock makes her feel fuller in a way she’s not used to, in a way she thinks she likes. But it’s strange to adjust and she has to consciously remind herself to breathe, to unwind.

            Of course, the way all her muscles have tensed up as an instinctive reaction only benefits Kylo, who nods and says, “Good, it’s— it’s good. Rey?”

            “Yes.” She gasps as Hux moves his finger back, then forward, probing her, seeing just what he can get away with. He starts maneuvering her again, subtly, with his body against her body, so she’s moving back and forth on Kylo in that rocking, grinding way as he works her with his finger.

            “I have a theory,” Hux purrs into her ear, softly, another private remark meant just for her.

            “ _Do_ you?” Rey asks breathily. “I’m so…”

            She trails off, and he completes the thought for her. “So curious. Yes, I know you must be.” He presses his finger a little deeper, and she groans, far too affected. “You seem to like it when he fucks you. I think you just like getting fucked. It doesn’t matter by whom, or— where.”

            He withdraws his finger, then presses it back in, along with a second. Rey moans, and so does _Kylo_ , who bucks up into her in response. Hux just keeps her still for a second while Kylo gets his hands on her hips and thrusts up into her a few times, demanding; the last thrust she feels so deeply her toes curl with it. She knows she’s not quiet, but she doesn’t care enough anymore about withholding satisfaction from Hux to keep her volume down.

            “ _Patience_ , Ren,” Hux says at last, pressing his chest to Rey’s back and bearing down on her so she bears down on Kylo in return, forcing his hips back down against the cushions. “It’ll be worth it.”

            Kylo exhales through his nostrils, a half-snarl, but then Hux starts fucking Rey with his fingers and neither Rey nor Kylo can muster any sort of protest. Hux watches, keenly, how Kylo seems to react as Rey does to the movements of his hand, arching right along with her.

            “Can he feel what you feel?” he asks Rey, voice still low. “Is that what your precious _Force_ does?”

            Rey can’t quite manage a coherent reply. She bites down on her back teeth. “Nnh.”

            “I suppose, in a way,” he continues, working his fingers in and out of her, “I’ll get to fuck you both.”

            She recovers her breath momentarily to say, “You are much too pleased about that.”

            “I’m positively _overjoyed_ ,” he replies in a dry monotone that barely contains his glee. “It’s about time he learned to take it.”

            He keeps moving his fingers while she swivels her hips, keeping Kylo with her; this is much slower than they usually go and she can feel the remnants of his patience waning, although his arousal does not. Then Hux withdraws from her — she whimpers, and she hates that a little bit — and takes a minute to fuss with a few things she can’t see, presumably his own trousers and more lubricant, but also something that crinkles. When he presses against her again she feels his cock sheathed in latex, and as much as she wants something else back _in_ her again she’s a little relieved they won’t have direct skin-on-skin contact.

            “I suppose this is the part where I beg permission,” he says, with his cock against Rey’s ass. “Although we’re a little far gone for it now…”

            “ _Just_ —” say Kylo and Rey together.

            He presses inside her without another word. He’s slower about it than he might be, but that’s out of necessity; it’s a tight fit, nearly impossible, Rey thinks for a moment, but then he pauses and pants against her shoulder and she’s fuller than she’s ever been. Between his cock and Kylo’s, the fullness consumes her, and she lets out a breathy little cry. Very nearly transported, she looks down at Kylo, who meets her eyes with his own, dark with lust and with all the same things she feels, a reflection, her mirror.

            Both of them are useless for the time being, trading sensations and feelings as their bond, heightened like everything else, seems to whip around them like a whirlwind. Hux has no issue taking control of the rhythm again, this time by fucking Rey, starting slow, moving her back and forth on Kylo as he thrusts and pulls out. It’s shallow until Rey can take him deeper, but shallow’s more than enough for all three of them, to start.

            The fullness gets to Kylo, too, not just through Rey, not just through the bond. It’s as if Hux inside of her applies more pressure around _his_ cock. His fingers dig into her skin, and he moves with her when he can, but it’s a little irregular. When he moans her name his voice is low and resonant.

            “Ah, _fuck_ ,” says Hux into Rey’s ear, and he thrusts into her a little harder, making her moan, too. “I—nnh—I get it now.”

            “Get _what_?”

            “You.” Deeper, now, and when he pulls out of her he pulls her back on Kylo. She keens. Inexplicably, Hux keeps _talking_. “I didn’t understand why he’d—” Thrust. “—disappear for _days_ —” Another thrust. “To, ah, roll around with some desert _whelp_.”

            She turns her head to look at him through half-lidded eyes. His hair’s fallen out of that slicked-back style he keeps it in; he’s red-faced, more undone than she’s ever seen him. “You do now?”

            “Oh, do I.” Another thrust, deeper, and he whispers to only her, “If your cunt’s half as tight as your ass, I’d gamble with an empire, too.”

            Kylo tightens his hold on Rey’s hips again and stills her, as if to say it’s his turn again, and Hux immediately cedes the rhythm to him. He brings his free hand up to Rey’s throat and keeps it there, more as a signifier than to squeeze the air out of her, as Kylo fucks her, hard. Rey realizes that he’s _close_ , but then she realizes that of course he would be with how long it took them to get to this point and then she realizes that she—

_Oh_ —

            This whole encounter had been so feverish and dreamlike that Rey’d barely been aware of the heat building between her own thighs, but as Kylo fucks her and Hux fills her from behind it’s thrown into sharp relief. When Kylo spills over inside of her, moments later, he triggers that chain reaction through their bond that makes her thighs shake and her belly clench and every feeling within her condense into a single sharp point that bursts and fills her with light. She quakes around his final thrusts, and when his hips finally fall back to the sofa and he slips out of her, she lets out a long, relieved exhale.

            Hux gives her a moment, then says, “I’m afraid we’re not finished here.”

            He pushes her forward, shifting his grip to the back of her neck and freeing her arm so he can grab at her hip. Rey’s climax, on top of everything else, leaves her more pliant than she’s ever been around him, willing, at least, to put up with this. Honestly, with how incredible that orgasm had felt, she’s open to giving a little back.

            Hux says to Kylo, “Ren.” There’s no response; Kylo’s still coming down from his own high. Hux sighs. “ _Ren_.”

            Kylo finally looks up. “Hm?”

            “You have hands.”

            It takes Kylo a second to comprehend his meaning, but he nods and sits up a little, both to kiss Rey and to reach down between her legs and slip a finger inside of her. It’s messy, with his and her fluids commingled, and also too much too soon. Rey gasps, overstimulated. “Oh, I can’t—”

            “You can. You will,” Hux says sharply, rocking his hips forward. He adds to Kylo, sounding put-upon, like he has to do everything, “Focus on her clit.”

            Kylo nods, and he kisses Rey again, pulling his hand back a little to rub at and around her clit with the pads of his fingers, which does feel good, better, not so raw. Rey hums against his lips and parts them to tangle her tongue with his, relieved to have his face close to hers again instead of Hux’s. It’ll unsettle her in the morning, she knows, that she let Hux in. Kylo she’s far past ever regretting.

            From behind, Hux finally lets himself start fucking her like the animal he thinks he’s not, gripping her neck, grunting, bucking into her with some amount of violence, and she’s suddenly all too aware of the sound of flesh slapping against flesh. Even so, as he thrusts into her ass and Kylo works at her from outside and she rocks her hips back and forth against both of them, she does feel the warmth within her ignite again. When Kylo senses her reawakening, he slides that single finger back inside her. Rey receives it much more easily now, and before long, before she even really knows what’s happened, he’s curling two fingers within her and stroking around her clit with his thumb as she keens against his mouth between kisses.

            “Yes,” Hux says, a growl in his voice. “ _Good_ girl, come on. Come again.”

            Rey knows she’s going to, but not because he urged her. Everything happening within her, around her, is so much that she can’t help it, even though, up to this point, she didn’t know this was something of which she was capable. Every climax with Kylo is so all-encompassing that they both need recovery time after, but with Hux adding some strange syncopation to their otherwise perfect harmony she finds herself teetering on the brink again.

            She’s glad Kylo knows these things without her having to say, because all at once he thrusts his fingers up _deep_ inside her and finds that spot that makes colors burst behind her eyelids, and all the mingling sensations put her over the brink. This time, her orgasm is so intense it nearly _blinds_ her, and she clamps around Kylo’s fingers and she hears Hux swear again as he bucks into her one last time, as he finishes too, his pelvis pressed up against her ass. Were Kylo physically able, he’d be there with them, but as it is he keeps Rey grounded, kissing her lips, her eyelids, her forehead until she comes down from this strange incandescent trance she’s in.

            They remain like that until the moment passes. Hux shifts back, pulling out of her without complaint. He must know that in Kylo’s mind he’s served his purpose. Who can say what he’s thinking in his own? He sits off to the side, taking care of whatever it is he needs to.

            For Kylo, it’s as if Hux has completely ceased to be. He reclines back against the sofa and pulls Rey to him. She feels like all of her limbs have turned to jelly, and she aches, but only in ways she likes. For a minute or so all she can do is tuck her face into Kylo’s neck as he strokes her hair, nuzzles her cheek, kisses her ear. Eventually she’s able to pick up her head and kiss him back, slow, familiar, post-coital kisses. They don’t even notice when Hux steps away and leaves the shelter of the curtain.

            Struggling to process everything that just happened, Rey asks after a few minutes, “What—” She blinks a couple of times, then shakes her head as if to clear it. “What was that?”

            “Hm?”

            “What’s his game?”

            Kylo wraps his arm around her shoulder and presses his lips to her forehead. “I don’t know that he has one.”

            “He always has one.”

            Kylo winds a loose strand of her hair around his finger as she traces the sharp line of his jaw. “Rey.”

            “What?”

            “He’s not blind.”

            Rey snorts. “I’m pretty sure _that’s_ not it.”

            “Don’t be. He’s a man. He has eyes. Of course he’d covet you,” Kylo says, stroking her cheek with the backs of his knuckles. “But he’ll never have you like I have you.”

            Rey knows this to be true. Yet he had had them both a certain way, and that begins to bother her. She pushes it aside to deal with tomorrow. If she remembers tonight tomorrow.

            “Maybe he’s trying to curry favor with you,” she says as she settles her head down on Kylo’s shoulder, “by getting me off.”

            Kylo considers this possibility. “I can’t say it didn’t work. I’ve… never seen you like that before. I’ve never felt you like that before. So full.” He rests a hand on the crown of her head. “Testing your limits.”

            “Well,” Rey replies, cheeks tingling, “let’s not make a habit of it.”

            “No,” Kylo agrees, swallowing a yawn. “Let’s not.”

            The music gradually softens, and Kylo’s breathing evens out. Rey feels him fall asleep; it’s the only time he’s ever completely at peace, the only time the inferno within him dims to its embers. She’s just begun nodding off too when she hears the sound of approaching footfalls, and sees the curtain stir again.

            Rey sighs. “Go away,” she murmurs, unable to muster the appropriate amount of vitriol.

            “Apologies, your Imperial Majesty,” Hux says, sarcasm dripping from his voice, “but you don’t give me orders yet.”

            “Yet.” Rey shifts her head on Kylo’s chest.

            “If you don’t believe he’d make a wife of you in a heartbeat, you’re more deluded than I thought. But as I said...” He crouches down to Rey’s level. “There are better ways.”

            Rey blinks at him. She wishes she wasn’t so drowsy for this conversation. She wishes she were _sober_. “Are you going to elaborate?”

            “I don’t think now’s the time.” He glances at Kylo, who is still sound asleep. “But I assume you don’t want to remain under his thumb forever. Especially not with how he treats you. Keeping you locked in his chambers, making you satiate his sexual demands. Bringing you to this kind of party and flaunting you like an ornament. Letting his underlings have their way with you.”

            For someone who fancies himself smart, Hux is so ignorant. But although Rey’s instinct is to tell him off, she refrains. What would a spy say? A spy would keep him talking. “So you’re saying _you_ would do better.”

            He clicks his tongue. “Such narrow focus,” he says. “You’re so simple.” He brushes a thumb across her lips, but has to hastily take it back when she bites at it. “Ah! _Fine_. All I am saying is that if you keep your eyes open, opportunities may… present themselves.”

            “Hmm.” Rey frowns, but says what she knows he wants to hear. “I think I understand.”

            “Good girl. When it comes time to choose a side, be sure to choose the right one.”

            Hux stands, looking one last time at how she’s laid out across Kylo’s chest, mostly nude. He smirks, then brushes the curtain aside, leaving Rey to hazily contemplate what he might mean. Before she can arrive at any clear answer, a drunken, clouded sleep overtakes her, and she knows nothing more.


End file.
